


In

by Catapapalilar



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 04:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4773269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catapapalilar/pseuds/Catapapalilar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sansa, an up and coming stage actress, is introduced to the beautiful Joffrey Baratheon, he appears to be everything she could hope for. Perfection, really.</p>
<p>An overview of their relationship, in a modern setting. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Emily Kinney's "In."

Sansa sighed in relief as the curtains closed for the last time. As much as she loved the stage, she was happy to have this final performance over with. Petyr, her acting coach, had been pushing her for the last year, culminating in this secondary leading role, but the pressure had been incredible and she knew that she couldn’t push herself again like that for awhile at least. The final bows behind her, she took Margaery’s arm, laughing as her friend feigned exhaustion and collapsed, before dragging her to their shared dressing room to get ready for the party that night. Sansa felt lighter than she had since auditions, giddy with the feeling of freedom, and a successful addition to her resume.

“Sansa!” Petyr called her from across the room, clearly wanting to introduce her to yet another producer, or director, or bigwig. She rolled her eyes, and instead ducked into a hallway. Despite this party being intended to give the cast a chance to celebrate the success of the run, she felt like she was just working more. Every time Sansa managed to get a glass of wine in her hands, Petyr showed up to smoothly take it away from her and showing her off like a prized pet. She smiled like the pretty thing she was told to be, and parroted back the lines Petyr instilled in her, but all she wanted was to join the impromptu dance that some of the cast had started on the other side of the room.

Peeking her head around the corner, she looked around to see if Petyr was still looking for her. Instead, she saw him. Golden hair, green eyes, and the most handsome face she had ever seen… She recognized him instantly as Joffrey Baratheon, heir to Tywin Lannister’s production company. Sansa’s eyes widened when he caught them with his own, and then Petyr’s voice rang again behind her.

“Sansa, sweetling, follow me. I want to introduce you to somebody. Sansa, this is Joffrey Baratheon, future CEO of Lannister Productions. Joffrey, this is my protégé, Sansa Stark.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt annoyed by Petyr once again deflecting her own skills on to his ‘expert instruction.’ But when this golden prince smiled at her, smiling appreciatively, all she could do was blush and reply sweetly to his kind inquiries of her career. He was perfect in every way.

Perfection was a hard standard to keep up, but to Sansa, Joffrey was the closest she had ever come across. They met the next day for coffee, where he called her the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He took her to a party that night, hosted by his more rowdy friends that winked and sent innuendos their way, but she felt safe with Joffrey’s arm around her waist. He walked her back to her apartment, where he pressed a kiss tasting a gin to her lips, and left her with a promise to help her paint her apartment the next weekend.

She buzzed him up on Saturday, paint cans, bare walls, and covered furniture awaiting him. Another kiss greeted him, and despite her screaming at Arya the week before for the same thing, Sansa simply smiled indulgently as he tracked mud from outside onto her pristine carpets. If her knight in shining armor came with a little mud on his boots, who was she to complain?

From there, their relationship was a whirlwind. They quickly progressed from a lingering goodnight kiss to stumbling into her twin-sized bed. And while his blanket hogging in the night, and the occasional bruising kick while he slept in their tight quarters annoyed her, it didn’t really matter. He was as perfect as she could hope for, and what difference did it make if he occasionally threw a glass in frustration at a football game? Glasses were cheap, and he was always so apologetic afterwards.

They fought fairly often, usually about her ignoring him in favor of her family and friends, but she always buzzed him into her apartment. She wasn’t really being fair, after all, and he was her sweet prince, her loving boyfriend, and why does her family deserve any more attention than him? He was her future, while her family was always there, and would always be there. It was important to focus on the base of this relationship, especially considering how easy it was for everything to fall apart.

Her only real time apart from Joffrey, other than work, was the solace she would find in the godswoods. Here she could always gather her thoughts and pray to the gods of her father. While she treasured this time alone, she didn’t really mind when Joffrey began accompanying her here too. Clearly, he simply wanted to understand where she came from, what traditions she held.

He slapped her for the first time on their 3-month anniversary. It was the week before Thanksgiving, and she jokingly said that Robb would surely beat Joffrey in the annual football game when he joined her family for their Thanksgiving festivities. It was really her fault though, because she should have known better. Joffrey was her love, and he deserved her support more than her brother. Robb had his own fiancé to cheer him on, he didn’t need Sansa.

Thanksgiving went off without a hitch, Joffrey being more affectionate after the slap the week before. And if none of her siblings, not even her brother’s best friend Jon, liked Joffrey, what did it matter? She knew him better than anyone, and if anything she was the one who didn’t deserve somebody like him. Sansa felt uncomfortable in the car ride home, as Joffrey threw insults towards her siblings _(“Arya sure is a little bitch isn’t she? And gods, your brothers are so idiotic!”)_ but honestly, what else could she expect when they were so cold towards him. After being raised by such a loving and sophisticated mother like Cercei, her family must have seemed barbaric in comparison!

She came home again for Christmas, with heavy makeup covering a bruise on her cheekbone, one all her own fault for being such a stupid girl. Her family gave her sideways glances the entire week, confused when she demurred from singing carols with the rest of them, even though the year before she sang louder than any of them. Joffrey was teaching her that really she shouldn’t show off, especially when she couldn’t sing well at all in the first place. She couldn’t believe her family put up with her grating voice for so long. Joffrey was honest with her, when she couldn’t trust anybody else around her. Even Petyr would compliment her when she knew she didn’t deserve it, but Joffrey didn’t let her pretty face distract from her faults, and she was grateful for it.

Sansa was heartbroken the following month when Joffrey left her for her friend Margaery. But really, what else was he supposed to do when she was so stupid, so clumsy and unworthy. When he visited her apartment a few weeks later, she tearfully refused to buzz him up. She could hear the anger in his voice for that, and she should have been grateful that he still wanted her in his life considering how foolish she was. She told herself this when her door opened despite the locks and he left her sore from the extent of his love the next day. She called off her audition in the morning to rest in bed and clean up the blood that ran down her thighs. He occasionally joined her at night, and for the first time Sansa asked herself if his love was worth all of this.

His visits stopped eventually, and Sansa got up the courage to change her locks. She slowly began piecing together her broken heart, and Petyr lined up more and more auditions for bigger and bigger roles. She was once again his pretty little mockingbird, a blank mask for emotions to play on. She was on stage six months later when she heard Joffrey’s laugh again. Her voice faltered as she sang when she spotted flashing green eyes in house left, knowing he was here. She felt relieved when the curtain closed once more, and she spotted him leaving with Margaery as the cast finished their bows. She lingered backstage, before going out to hug her family who came to see her performance.

When she made it back to her dressing room to gather her things, he was waiting for her. And really, even if he wasn’t perfect, even if he was sadistic and cruel and abusive, did she really deserve any better? She was just a stupid little songbird, made for nothing better than to parrot back the words of better people.

 

* * *

 

_What could this broken love be all about?  
I let you in... Now I can't get you out_

_-"In" by Emily Kinney_


End file.
